You Flower In Sunlight, I'm Dying In Midnight
by marysverse
Summary: One Shot.  Dan/Blair.  Chuck's POV.  Companion piece to Happiness Hits Like A Bullet In Love and Something Inching Past The Edge Of Reserve.


You Flower In Sunlight, I'm Dying In Midnight

It took Gossip Girl a full two weeks to get wind. He was riding in his limo, coming back from the airport. Most Upper East Siders used town cars, favoring the quieter display of wealth over the clichéd choice of transport. But he had little use for pretending a modesty that simply did not exist in him. He loved riding his limo; he sat stretched out, taking up as much space as possible in the dark leather interior. His phone dinged and he pulled it out from the inside pocket of his custom suit. He sat staring at the blast for a solid sixty seconds before snapping his phone shut. He stabbed the button in front of him lowering the privacy screen.

"Change of plans, head to the Waldorf's." He commanded his driver, rolling the partition back up after the driver nodded his head. GG had been known to be wrong from time to time, and he knew she was again. She had to be wrong about this one. But assumptions had cost him dearly before so a slight detour for the assurance would be worthwhile. Even on something as utterly ridiculous as this.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself standing in front of Blair. His heart had been sinking to his feet since he ran into Serena on the way in. She was a flurry of flying hair and mascara marked tears. He only needed one guess to figure out where she was heading as she ducked into a taxi without even saying hello. Blair was giving nothing away, but her silence said it all. He put his hands in his pockets to hide the painful fists they were involuntarily forming and made his way to the chaise.

"How long do you think this is going to last?" Blair sat down across from him, legs together, demurely to one side, her dress riding up ever so slightly on her thighs. Not her thighs, his thighs, they belonged to him, no matter what grubby paws she allowed to slide up them.

"Chuck." Her voice full of empathy, but no regret.

"Really Blair, give me an estimation. If you are just scratching and itch, then I won't bother to accept the challenge."

"This isn't one of our games Chuck. There is no challenge."

"Then what is the angle?"

"Honestly, I thought it was just chemistry. Two bodies reacting to each other's incompatibilities, but it's not as simple as that anymore." She looked away from his spotlight intensity.

"Well why don't you break it down for me? You think you are going to find greatness with _him_?" His voice dripped with venom, hiding his hurt behind contempt. She shook her head, not knowing what to say.

"I take it Serena did not take it so well?" He asked casually, deciding to switch tactics.

"Not so much, no." Now, the remorse showed on her face. Serena was always her weakness.

"Yes, I saw her leaving in a hurry. I'm sure she's in Humphrey's arms right now, crying on that shoulder she loves to lean on." Her eyes clouded over, doubt skimming its depths. Chuck smiled to himself, he had hit home.

"He won't be able to say no to her? When has he ever been able to turn down the golden girl with the easy smile?" He didn't enjoy hurting her; the ever so slight quiver of her lip let him know that she wasn't as sure of this unholy alliance as she pretended to be. She hid it well; a stranger wouldn't be able to discern any effect his words were having. But he was no stranger. He was Chuck Bass. And Blair Waldorf was born for him; there was no one in this lifetime that even came close.

He got up, debating whether or not to let the words stew and strangle the newly formed relationship before it even really began or if he needed to remind her who she was meant to be with. He was next to her in two steps. She refused to meet his eyes. He used his hand to guide her face towards his, every movement a seduction, a sensuous torture. He trailed that hand down her bare arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake. His eyes, half hooded with lust, drew ever closer to her perfect pout.

"Chuck." She whispered out, trying to back away. His name traveled toward him laced with her scent, his entire body buzzed with energy, tightly coiled and waiting to spring onto his territory. She just needed a reminder. He grabbed hold of her hair, the sensitive strands in the back, close to her neck and tugged so her face tilted up to his.

"Chuck!" She yelled at him, her hand gripping his fist that was tangled in her hair.

"Don't touch my hair." She ground the words out forcefully, her hands pushing him away.

He snapped out of his fog, finally reading the panic in her eyes. Jesus, what the fuck was he doing? He pulled her in against him, trying to convey how sorry he was. He felt his insides were a churning mass of razor sharp claws trying to dig their way out. This couldn't be happening.

"Please. Don't do this." An alien voice hoarsely rose out of him. His world was spinning away from him, she was going to disappear. Her stiff form relaxed in his death grip. He felt her arms circle around him and for a brief moment, he thought maybe he had been victorious. But her next words shattered him.

"I'm sorry." This wasn't love, this was pity. She was trying to be kind to him. She was trying to lessen the blow. He tried to gather his strength, to pull away, to refuse the comfort of her embrace. But when you know something is ending, you can't let it go. No! This was not the end, could not be the end. Humphrey would fuck it up, no doubt in his mind that he didn't have it in him to keep a girl like Blair. Or maybe Blair would reconsider, especially with Serena back in the scene. Yes, it wouldn't last. And she would make her way back to him. And he would be ready for her when she did. He pulled away, his composure regained. Smoothing his jacket and tucking an errant hair back into its flawless mold.

"You'll come back. But I can't promise I'll be available when you do." He informed her cruelly, twisting the verbal knife expertly. But she refused to play, refused to engage in their war of the words and stayed silent, looking steadily at him with her new found knowing gaze.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dan asked from the doorway. Chuck gave him a look that would make any educated man shiver in fear. But Dan merely raised his eyebrows, missing or ignoring the intention entirely. He made his way out, leaving the odd pair together. But he couldn't help lingering in the hall; perhaps he would hear something he could use to his advantage.

"Serena came to see me." Dan said softly to her.

"And?"

"And I told her I'm sorry."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I'm sorry this hurts her."

"Me too." She responded, her voice sounding small and unsure.

"'But I'm not sorry about us. Are you?" She sighed, relief and frustration mingling together.

"I'm worried, Humphrey." She clarified.

"But not sorry?" He pressed again. There was a long silence.

"No. Not about us." Her happiness bubbled off that last word. Us. Us? That was supposed to be them. He risked a peek back into the room. Turns out he had no need to be concerned. The duo were wholly wrapped up in each other. Her legs threaded in between his, his hand stroking her hair, her arms laced at his waist, they allowed nothing between them, no space, no air. It was so intimate, so personal, he felt like he was watching them have sex. But when he glimpsed her eyes, all the schemes, all the plots died in their tracks of his mind. He couldn't even describe the emotion in her eyes; he had never seen it from her before. The only word he could use was joy, but it seemed to pale in comparison to the sheer strength of it pouring out of her. This wasn't something he could fight; this wasn't something he could manipulate. He had lost the battle before he had even known what ground he was losing.

_Outside the door he stands,_

_His head in his hands,_

_And his heart in his throat._


End file.
